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قراءة كتاب The City Bride (1696) Or The Merry Cuckold
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Mad!
My Bonvile leave his Wife? And on his Wedding Day?
His Bride whom he perhaps may ne’re Enjoy?
And all for me? O most unhappy Man!
Nor is it lost, thô for a while, delay’d.
Which Death alone can part.
Recall this Rash and suddain Resolution,
Least you repent, alas when it is too late.
But mine it moves not; like to a Mighty Oake,
I’m plac’d above the Storms of Fear or Doubt.
Enter Arabella.
And of these Bracelets, Oh! Unhappy Omen!
Bon. No, no, my Love; I found it as it lay at Random in your Chamber, and fearing it might be forgot, or lost, have laid it by; ’Tis safe my Love.
Ara. Indeed I’me very glad you’ve found it, but yet——
[sighs.
Bon. Yet, What my Dear? from whence proceeds that sigh?
Some busie Genius Whispers to my Soul,
The loss of this upon my Wedding Day
Portend’s a greater e’re the Day be past.
[Aside to Friendly.
If you are there before me, Take a turn or two.
[Exit Bonvile, and Arabella.
The only, only Man that I can call Friend,
And only Friend that I am bound to Kill?
A Friend, that for my sake wou’d stake his Life,
Leave a Chast Bride and untouch’d Nuptial Bed
For me base Man, nay worse than Savage Beast:
The generous Lyon, never kills his kind
They say, althô provoked to utmost rage;
Yet I vile Monster, more ungrateful Man,
Thus unprovoked, must kill my Brother Creature,
And which is worse, my Dear and only Friend!
All for the pleasure of a Foolish Woman.
A Task so hard, Yet what I can't withstand!
Oh! thou rare Copy of the Original,
By which free Man at first received his fall;
For she not only wou’d her self undo,
And all her Sex, but Damn all Mankind too. [Exit.
The End of the First Act.
ACT the Second.
Scene the First.
The Fields.
Enter Summerfield solus.
Sum. A Younger Brother! ’Tis a poor Title, and very hard to bear with: The Elder Fool inherits all the Land, whilst we are forc’d to follow Legacies of Wit, and get ’um when we can. Why shou’d the Law, by which we are deprived of equal Portion with the First-begotten, not bind our Fathers to cease from Procreation, and so as well deprive us of a wretched Being, as of the Thing we cannot be without: No, no, our Mothers ne’re will consent to that, they love to groan and squall, tho at the same time the Gallows eccho’s to their Groans, and both together labour for us. From the first we travel forth—to’thers our Journey’s End. All this I know, yet I must forward: To beg, my Birth will ne’re consent to; and borrowing is quite out of date—Yet starve I cannot, nor murder I wou’d not: It must be the Highway then, the old Trade we poor honest Rogues are forc’d too—This Place will serve for a Beginner well enough—A Beginner did I say? Yes; for this is the very first day I open Shop—Fortune, they say, uses to help the Bold, I hope she will be kind to me. Ha! who have we here? A Gentlewoman well rigg’d, and only a Servant with her, She may be a Prize worth the boarding, and faith I’ll venture hard but I’ll carry her.
[He retires to a corner of the Stage.
Enter Arabella in great disorder, looking about her, with Symon her Servant.
Arab. This way, say’st thou Symon, with Friendly?
Sym. Yes forsooth Mistress, with Mr. Friendly.
Arab. Alas! I’m tired and cannot travel further; my Heart is full of Fear, and yet I know not why, nor can I tell why he should use me thus,—It is not common sure for Men to leave their Brides upon the Wedding-day: And yet I cannot tell but it may be so! O wretched State of Marriage, and of Love, if this be Love! Here will I lie me down, and rest a while [Lies down.] my wearied Limbs, unused to these sad Frights and Fears—But prethee do thou run after him, and if it be possible o’retake him too: Tell him the strange Disorder thou dost leave me in; and let him know my Father’s Anger, his Friends Concern, and what is more, his Arabella’s sad Complaint; tell him, I grieve, I faint, I die; tell him any thing that may stay him.
Sym. Yes Forsooth.
Arab. Intreat him to return; nay, urge him all thou canst to make him come again: Nay haste, good Symon, fly if thou canst, for I can stir no further.
Sym. Well, well, Forsooth, I am gone.
[Exit Symon.
Arab. Alas, how wretched and forlorn am I!